


Phantom hands

by symphorine



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alcohol, Asexual Character, Asexual Daichi, F/M, Getting Back Together, Happy Ending, M/M, Misunderstandings, Pining, Post-Break Up, mostly daichi suga and kuroo the others are really barely there, read the author's note, they're in their mid-twenties I'd say
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-11
Updated: 2016-01-11
Packaged: 2018-05-13 06:09:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5697892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/symphorine/pseuds/symphorine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He was happy for Yamaguchi and Yachi. Really, he was. The wedding had been beautiful, they'd both managed not to stumble over their words, the reception had been nice, seeing all his friends again at once had been even better. Honestly, there was nothing he could complain about.</p><p>It was his fault his hands felt empty without Kuroo's touch whenever his eyes landed on the happy couple.</p><p>-</p><p>(Also known as the first step in my very quick descent into Haikyuu!! hell. And my contribution to fics with ace characters. Involves Suga fixing people's love life, which is basically a trope in this fandom at this point. Not as angsty as it may look. Enjoy.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Phantom hands

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hy_ddy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hy_ddy/gifts).



> /!\this involves Daichi discovering he's asexual, telling his then bf, and it resulting in them breaking up, though it's over a misunderstanding. It deals with them getting back together and being fine with it, but still, if it makes you uncomfortable, proceed with caution or don't read. Also, Daichi drinks a lot in the first part, so same thing applies if drinking makes you uncomfortable./!\
> 
> So I blame my sister and my friend for getting me into this terrible, terrible anime where I love everyone and I can ship so many people and writing fic is my way to thank them.
> 
> From [this post break-up AU prompts post on tumblr](http://ldiote.tumblr.com/post/135128076303), with some liberties: “it´s my [insert family relation here]´s wedding and seeing all these happy couples is killing me and all i can think about is how this was almost us” AU (bonus: “i know that it’s two in the morning and i’m dressed really formally and a little (a lot) bit drunk but i couldn’t stop thinking about you after my grandma asked how you were doing also can i come in it’s freezing out here”)
> 
> No beta reading and english isn't my native language, so please do tell me if you notice any mistake!

He was happy for Yamaguchi and Yachi. Really, he was. The wedding had been beautiful, they'd both managed not to stumble over their words, the reception had been nice, seeing all his friends again at once had been even better. Honestly, there was nothing he could complain about.

It was his fault his hands felt empty without Kuroo's touch whenever his eyes landed on the happy couple. His fingers itched, the memories of a touch he had lost all claim to still making him twitch. He congratulated the newlyweds and sang with the whole team, amused by their reddening faces, and then refrained from clapping loudly on their shoulders, instead gently settling his hands on them.

“I'm proud of you both.”

And he had meant it, and the way they'd beamed at him was thanks enough, even though they'd both started stuttering. He'd waved it off with a laugh and let the next in line talk to them, going straight for the champagne. He couldn't keep his hands empty, or he'd find them halfway through an automatic motion, and he couldn't take it again.

“Enjoying yourself?” Suga asked, suddenly at his side.

“Sure,” he answered, the lie easy after two months of practice. “Everything's great. Though I doubt they've organized it themselves, right?”

“Not everything, no,” Suga laughed. “They tried, but it stressed them out so much that they gave up pretty quickly. Shimizu helped a lot, from what I heard, and so did Tsukishima.”

“I'm surprised he accepted. I know Yamaguchi is his best friend, but he never looked extremely enthusiastic about – this kind of thing,” Daichi finished with a vague gesture around.

“It's not everyday you get to be someone's best man,” Suga smiled.

Daichi felt himself smile in return, but it fell apart quickly. He took a sip of his drink to mask his face a little, then another, then another, until he'd downed the glass entirely. Suga's face had morphed into something else when he looked again, halfway between worry and concern.

“Are you sure you're okay?” he asked again, more quietly this time, looking directly into his eyes.

“I will be,” Daichi shrugged. “Besides, you shouldn't focus on me. Today is about them,” he added, pointing in the direction of the now dancing couple – and weren't they a sight, smiling at each other like they were alone in the world.

He ignored the way his body felt, longing for something like that, something he used to have, and took another drink instead. He didn't dare drink it, though, not under Suga's watchful eyes.

“I will be fine,” he repeated, determined this time. “Let's look for the others.”

Suga nodded once, slowly, but loosened eventually and led him to Asahi and Nishinoya and – yeah, it wasn't worse, really, it was just another stab at his heart to see their hands loosely entwined, their small smiles, their stolen glances while the other was talking.

“By the way, Daichi-san, how's Kuroo doing?” Nishinoya asked after a few minutes, his smile bright.

Daichi felt his smile freeze on his face, and for a split second, he felt like his heart was going to break again. He vaguely saw Suga from the corner of his eyes, making faces and wild gestures at Nishinoya, but he swallowed around the thing in his throat that made it suddenly very hard to talk, and answered.

“We, ah, broke up,” he said, smile still plastered on his face, slightly apologetic this time. “But last I heard, he was doing okay.”

The words hurt even more as he said them, but he was proud to say that his voice didn't break once, or even wavered.

“Oh shit, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked-”

“It's okay, you couldn't know,” Daichi said. “It's nothing.”

He didn't miss Suga's gaze, drilling a hole into the side of his head, but Nishinoya kept apologizing and he kept telling him it was fine, and then they dropped the subject, courtesy of Asahi who finally shut his boyfriend up, and moved on to Nishinoya's recounting of his last match. It was familiar and easy, safe; Daichi let himself flow with the words and the story, laughing at the right moments, frowning when it was expected, and nobody mentioned Kuroo again. Daichi emptied his glass, barely savoring the taste, and found another.

The groups moved around a bit, more people dancing as the evening progressed, but Daichi still found himself standing with Suga in a corner, out of the way and private enough that nobody they didn't know would come and bother them. And everyone they knew was starting to be pretty drunk and occupied elsewhere.

Somewhere along the way, Daichi had opted for some kind of cocktail, just strong enough to get him comfortable, not enough to get him actually drunk. When he looked for the edge cutting into his chest, it felt dull, and he could breathe a little better again.

“You never told me why you broke up,” Suga said, and right, _there_ went the good feeling.

“You never asked,” Daichi retorted, looking longingly at the bottom of his – sadly empty – glass.

“I thought you'd talk about it at some point, but you've been avoiding the subject for months, now.”

“So you decided ambushing me at the wedding was the best course of action?”

“Yes.”

The word sounded final, cutting short to the stalling. Daichi turned to Suga, his friend's eyes serious. His hand curled around his glass, the other one into a fist in his pocket, and he sighed. He could leave, right now, and get a respite, but Suga wouldn't give up. Or he could explain. Right now. And Suga would probably pity him. Because it was pathetic, dammit, and he'd thought he would be better than that, but apparently not.

It was bound to happen anyway, he told himself, rubbing at this eyes in an effort to gather some courage.

“Do you remember that discussion we had, at the end of high school? About, uh, sexuality.”

“When you told me you liked guys too?” Suga inquired, frowning.

“Yeah. That one.”

He went silent for a few seconds, his heart trying to set new speed records, but before his friend could ask what it had to do with anything, he took a deep breath and spoke up again.

“It wasn't entirely accurate. Well, I didn't know, at the time, but- I realized that I've never felt attracted. To anyone.”

“Attracted, as in? Sexually?”

“Yeah. I'll get aroused sometimes, but I can never picture myself doing anything with anyone, and honestly, the idea of sex is just...”

“Not appealing?”

“Yeah, that. So, really, I found out that I'm asexual. Two months ago.”

He felt better now that he'd started – not that he'd ever thought Suga, of all people, would reject him for it, but it was nice to have it out in the open all the same.

“Two months ago?” Suga repeated, starting to understand.

“Yeah. Can I just-”

He gestured at the bar, and when Suga didn't stop him, went to grab another drink before coming back to his friend. He drank half of it before resuming the retelling of the most painful moment of his life, and oh, the buzz was back, not nearly as nice as before, but welcomed all the same.

“You told him,” Suga prompted him. “What did he say?”

“It's not what _he_ said, it's what _I_ said,” Daichi laughed, bitterly. “I told him I wasn't attracted to him, at all, and that I most likely would never be, and that we should probably take some time to think about it, about _us_ , how we could work, and he didn't even wait for me to finish, was out of the door before I even reached the last word. He came by for his things later, when I wasn't there, and didn't answer any of my texts, so. Yeah. That's it.”

He didn't mention the moment of stillness when Kuroo had left, the way it had felt like a bad dream before the door closed loudly, the way his world had shattered around him all at once. He hadn't said a word about how empty the apartment had felt that night, how cold the bed had been for two fucking months – how much worse it had become when he'd come home to find Kuroo's things missing, without even a note to account for his visit. Just emptiness. He couldn't find it in himself to talk about the first few days and nights, spent in a daze, and then the first weekend after, when it had become _real_.

He swallowed the rest of his drink.

“I knew he probably expected sex at some point, but still, I didn't think that he would take 'some time to think' as 'go away and never talk to each other again',” Daichi laughed, a bitter taste in his mouth that had nothing to do with the cocktail.

It was quiet between them for a few minutes, Suga worrying his bottom lip between his teeth. They could hear the loud cheers from everyone, the off-key singing from a few guys outside, the buzz of the conversation around them, but it all felt like silence. Daichi looked at this glass, debating whether to get another or not. He didn't want to get wasted, he'd wanted to be sure to keep it together, if only to help manage the others, but _now_. He kind of wanted to go sing with Nishinoya and Tanaka and forget they had just talked about that. Maybe go dance, too. Anything to have his hands and his mind busy.

“Oh my god. Daichi.”

“What?”

“Did you even mention asexuality at all?”

“It's not like I had the time when he literally ran away,” Daichi observed, unused to get the expression Suga was wearing directed at him.

“In your texts, then?” Suga insisted, looking more and more pissed of by the second.

“He didn't even answer when I asked him to talk!”

“Did you specify you weren't _sexually_ attracted to him?”

“Yes, that's what I told him?”

“Did you say that it wasn't specifically _him_?”

Daichi opened his mouth to answer, then closed it, opened it again. Suga looked like he was two seconds away from either cuffing him on the head or cry on his case. He'd seen him like this often enough when interacting with the team.

“Could it be possible that he took it to mean that you weren't interested in him anymore? At all?” Suga finally asked after half a minute of Daichi's imitation of a goldfish. “As in, _breaking up with him?_ ”

And he must really have drank too much, because the realization was slow to come, and when it did, he considered throwing himself against the wall.

“You think he understood it like that?” Daichi repeated, the words a little slurred between the alcohol and the realization dawning on him.

“If he thought it was you breaking up with him, you've got to admit that it would be a shitty way to announce it,” Suga added, almost wincing at his own words. “Not that I want to make it look even worse, but...”

“No, it's- it's true, but. I can't believe it could be this stupid,” Daichi sighed, putting the empty glass on the nearest surface available. “Just because I worded it _that way_ -”

“Coming from anybody else I could understand, but you're usually so much better at _communicating_ ,” Suga lamented. “How did you manage to fuck up this badly?”

“I don't know! It was very confusing for me too, alright? It was new and I wasn't sure about telling anyone,” Daichi snapped back, without any real heat, too busy contemplating his life and his word choice, dragging his hands down his face, and then looking, and his hands were still empty and _not touching_ -

“How did you manage to never _explain properly_?”

It was stupid. He couldn't say it out loud, couldn't say that after a week of texts without answer, he'd given up, tried to forget, _tried_ to-

“Okay. Do you still love him?” Suga interrupted his train of thoughts again.

That one wasn't hard at all.

“Yeah. Have you seen how much of a mess I've been?” Daichi answered with a strangled laugh. “Yeah, 'course you have, we wouldn't be having this conversation otherwise,” he sighed, turning his face away from Suga's knowing eyes.

He wasn't sure if he'd find compassion or pity in them. He _had_ been a mess. For two months, now, he had acted like part of him was missing, like he couldn't go back to normal. And he'd hated it, felt so out of it, so strange to himself, he hadn't recognized himself when he looked in the mirror in the morning, because he'd really thought he could pick himself back up, but no, and could it be just a simple, stupid, _fucking misunderstanding?_

“Daichi, this is so-”

“I need to go,” Daichi cut him off. “Like, right now.”

“Where? You're drunk, I'm not letting you-”

“I'm not that drunk, okay-”

“ _And_ you're upset-”

“I'm not driving, it's okay, I'm just going to take the train, Suga!”

Suga looked like he wanted to add something more, but his eyebrows suddenly shot up, a small _oh!_ escaping his lips, and his frown became a smile.

“I'll- I'll- I'm gonna go say goodbye to Yamaguchi and Yachi, and then I'll go,” Daichi said, his voice shaking less than his hands, “thank you Suga, I'll text you-”

“Go, you idiot,” Suga said, nudging him, and Daichi didn't need to be told twice. “I'll say goodbye to the others for you.”

He practically ran, avoiding the other guests still up and dancing, lighter on his feet than he'd been for a while, until he reached Yamaguchi and Yachi.

“Congratulations again,” he smiled, hugging them both. “Be responsible, have a great night, don't let Tanaka and Nishinoya near anything fragile, I'll call you later.”

“Uh, okay? Goodbye?” they called after him, exchanging surprised glances before he turned on his heels.

Nobody tried to stop him, and he ran into the streets, deserted in this part of the city as the moon was rising into the clear sky, lighting his way in smaller alleys. Soon his breath shortened, his legs heavy as lid, his lungs feeling like they were on fire, and yet he hadn't felt that good in a long time. It was a heady feeling, and it had nothing to do with the alcohol. It felt like the first time he'd won a match, like when they'd gotten into nationals – like when he'd spent that afternoon with Kuroo, so long ago it seemed, and they'd kissed for the first time, and held hands until they had to go home.

He barely managed to buy his ticket, his fingers missing every button twice before he finally got the piece of paper and ran to the platform, just in time to rush past the closing doors.

He began to pace, too restless to just sit and wait for the third stop. What if Suga was right? What if he was _wrong_? What was he going to say?

How could he even make up for that stupid mistake?

For the first time in months, he felt something in his chest that didn't violently cut through his heart. He remembered – he remembered the way Kuroo's hand had felt against his, rough palms against the same, how much he'd loved trailing them on his softer skin too, when they were sleeping, how many times he'd fallen asleep after him, to the sound of his light snores, that Kuroo has always denied even existed, to the sight of his face-

He clenched and unclenched his hands, the train starting again after the first stop. _What should I say? What should I say?_

Even if he had stopped running minutes ago, his breathing was still coming out short and ragged, uneven, not even following the erratic rhythm of his heart. He realized he was gripping the bar with his left hand so tight his knuckles were white, his hands almost hurting – it had felt better than the touch he regretted so much, and so at first he'd just balled them up at his side, like he was now, nails digging hard into his palm, but the pain hadn't actually helped, so he'd opted for keeping a volley ball close instead, for when his hands were free.

The second stop came, the door opened and closed, the train rolled forward, and suddenly Daichi's stomach was coiled tight, his throat thick. What if Kuroo didn't even open? What if he did, just to tell him to go home? What was he _thinking_? What if it went bad again, what if-

The name of the station, the monotone voice coming out of the speakers, it all sounded so familiar to his ears that he almost threw up. He'd been thinking about asking Kuroo to move in with him, before it all happened, but the trip to his home was still something his body remembered, from his muscles going through the motion to his senses picking up on the familiar sight. He fumbled with his ticket again, almost just gave up to jump over the machine, but his nature and tendency to stick to the rules kicked in and he breathed in, out, went through the operation.

He started running again the moment his feet hit the concrete outside, skipping three steps at a time on the stairs and turning right at the bottom. The wind rushed around him, his jacket too light to really protect him, but he didn't even notice, his mind focused on the path, acutely aware of every turn, every hole in the road, every building, even though he'd rarely gone that way running.

He stopped right in front of Kuroo's apartment complex, an old building, and he remembered the number, composing it on the intercom without even having to think. He pushed the button and called, and a second passed, then two, then-

“ _Who's there?”_ asked Kuroo's voice through the intercom, rough – from sleep, maybe, it was getting late.

Daichi cleared his throat, tried not to think about how this was the first time in months he'd heard Kuroo's voice.

“It's- It's Daichi.”

“ _What the- What do you want?”_

The anger and confusion were obvious in his tone, immediate and inevitable. Daichi closed his eyes and tried to calm down.

“Could you please open to me?”

“ _Why?”_

“We need to talk, Te- Kuroo.”

“ _Oooh, talk about what? Did I forget something at_ your _apartment?”_

“No, it's not- We need to talk, okay, maybe- There might have been a misunderstanding.”

The line went silent, not even crackling, and Daichi feared that Kuroo had just hung up on him.

“… _a misunderstanding? Are you kidding me?”_

“Look, can we just talk face to face? I promise if nothing comes out of it, I won't bother you again,” Daichi stumbled over the words, hurrying before Kuroo decided he just didn't want to listen anymore.

Another pause, then:

“ _I'm coming down_.”

Daichi stepped back, the cold finally seeping under his clothes making him shiver. He tried to think of what to say, anything, _anything,_ but his mind was blank.

The door opened and Kuroo stepped out, his hair even messier than usual, dressed in sweatpants and an old T-shirt, one that used to be Daichi's, and a jacket. He always did do better with cold weather. For a moment, neither of them spoke – Daichi wasn't sure he remembered how. Kuroo toyed nervously with his keys for a second before pocketing them, obviously trying to choose between looking at Daichi and looking _anywhere else_.

“Why the hell are you dressed like that?” Kuroo finally said, raising his eyebrows as he got closer. “It's two in the fucking morning, you know? Did I miss the memo for somethi- oooh, great,” he interjected, wrinkling his nose and stopping a few centimeters away from Daichi. “You're drunk, right? Of _course_ you're drunk.”

He made to turn back, a bitter sigh on his lips, but Daichi's hand caught his. They almost jumped at the touch, their fingers fitting so comfortably together.

“I'm not drunk. Maybe a bit, but I know what I'm saying, okay?” Daichi breathed, thanking any deity in the vicinity that he had sobered enough to speak clearly.

“...right. Let's hear it, then. _Misunderstanding_?” Kuroo asked, obviously skeptical, but he didn't take his hand back.

“What I said- How I said it, it came out wrong. I didn't mean- I didn't know how you heard it, and you didn't answer so I couldn't explain...”

“Daichi-”

“I'm asexual. I don't experience sexual attraction, ever, to anyone,” Daichi blurted out. “It's not you-”

“It's not you it's me?” Kuroo snorted without humor.

“It's not that I'm not sexually attracted to you specifically,” Daichi said, pressing lightly, so lightly Kuroo's hand with his. “I've never been attracted to anyone that way. And the idea of sex isn't exactly pleasant either, but it's not because it's you, it's because I just don't like it. I thought we should- I don't know, that we should think about what it would mean for _us_ \- It's not- I never wanted to hurt you. I'm sorry.”

Daichi felt out of breath, and Kuroo just stared, didn't say anything, for a long moment, but he left their hands where they were, wrapped together, and the warm touch was enough to let him wait.

“Yeah, that's not exactly what I'd taken from what you said,” Kuroo admitted finally. “Not at all.”

“I know, I'm sorry, but I didn't know how to explain,” Daichi answered.

“I should have picked up when you called, huh?”

“Maybe. Definitely.”

Their eyes met and held the other in place, a tiny, wobbly smile stretching their lips as Kuroo entwined their fingers, bringing their palms together.

“So you _weren't_ breaking up with me?” he asked. Just to be clear.

“No. No, I wasn't trying to,” Daichi said, feeling a laugh bubbling up in his throat. “It was new to me, I'd just discovered the word, but I wanted to tell you. And I was a bit scared, too.”

“You, scared?” Kuroo teased.

“Well, look how it went.”

“Yeah. Yeah, not my brightest moment, I guess. I'm sorry for not giving you the chance to explain, I just- I couldn't handle it, after the way you, well, _didn't_ break up with me. You always hesitated when touching me, and I guess I thought that meant that you didn't want, because I wasn't-”

“ I thought I wasn't ready,” Daichi huffed. “But it felt stupid, at my age, to say that, you know? But now I- I know that I was afraid it would go further. But it wasn't you, you were never a problem.”

“Except when I ran away and didn't answer, like a huge asshole,” Kuroo supplied, grimacing.

Daichi hung his head to hide the amused smile, but couldn't help the laugh that escaped his lips, relief and joy and consternation at their mistake all getting out, finally. Kuroo followed suit a few seconds later, and they were so, so close, Daichi breathless again, but not the only one, this time.

“So you still like me?”

“Little more than like you, yeah,” Kuroo said, and he took a last step forward, not letting go of Daichi's hand.

“Good. Okay, good,” Daichi smiled, his chest not hurting for the first time in three months.

A few seconds passed, and they looked at each other. Daichi's words were blocked somewhere in his chest, so he just squeezed Kuroo's fingers, as tightly as he dared.

“Want to come in and talk a little more?” Kuroo offered in a whisper, his lips almost brushing against Daichi's. “Maybe we would have needed _that_ more thank thinking,” he added, snorting derisively.

“I would like that, yeah,” Daichi answered, closing the gap between them.

Their kiss was short, just a press of lips, an exchange of breath, but somehow it felt like the best thing Daichi had ever done. He went back for a quick peck before really gripping Kuroo's hand in his, hanging between them as they walked inside, smiling so hard his cheeks were hurting.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you liked it :D Though Daichi's explanation gone wrong isn't based on my life at all, his discovering he's ace, and his boundaries and vision of sex and arousal are heavily inspired by my own experience.
> 
> There's [a post on tumblr](http://ldiote.tumblr.com/post/137099105559) if you want to reblog or like or anything.
> 
> Have a nice day/night!


End file.
